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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29872173">The Party</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/owodumbitch/pseuds/owodumbitch'>owodumbitch</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Biohazard | Resident Evil (Gameverse)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>9ft tall vampire lady &lt;3, Ambiguous/Open Ending, Broken Bones, F/F, Fluff, Implied/Referenced Sexual Assault, Lady Dimitrescu - Freeform, Not Beta Read, Party, Pre-Canon, Reader-Insert, Tags Are Hard, but not actually implied it’s there i just didn’t describe it, but not rlly, i just didn’t know how to end it</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-03-06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-03-06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-16 02:02:48</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,454</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29872173</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/owodumbitch/pseuds/owodumbitch</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Losing Lady Dimitrescu at a party proves to be unfortunate- and the man who finds you does not seem nice at all.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Lady Dimitrescu (Resident Evil) &amp; Reader, Lady Dimitrescu (Resident Evil)/Reader, Lady Dimitrescu (Resident Evil)/You</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>287</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>The Party</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>tw: sexual assault but not really? you dance with a man and he touches ur ass that’s it tbh. he also breaks ur wrist cuz he grips it so hard</p><p>im rlly gay for lady dimitrescu and i wanted to write smth for her :’)</p><p>-written on mobile (and i only read through and edited once)-</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Lady Dimitrescu could be kind. There were many different times you could think of where she had been kind or helpful- but you could not be more grateful for it now. You both had been invited to a “small gathering” (although when it was posed that way, you knew it wouldn’t quite be that) on diplomatic affairs regarding Lady Dimitrescu and politics. Mingling with people was not your strong suit, preferring to stand on the sides of the people gathering and slowly sip your drink.</p><p>But Lady Dimitrescu would not allow that. She had grabbed your wrist, gently pulling you along to mingle with her, a soft promise of “It will be okay,” whispered in your ear as you were pulled along. She was always careful to direct conversation away from you, keeping a hand on your waist or wrist, gently letting you know she was there. She would guide you with your wrist once again, moving towards another small group of people. And suddenly, you could no longer feel her gloved hand around your wrist.</p><p>In the middle of everybody, champagne glass lightly shaking in your hand- you felt lost. It was almost as if you were a kid again, looking for your mother in the local market when you had gotten separated. As you stood, you contemplated on how to find Lady Dimitrescu once again. Finding her tall form in the crowd of people was useless- there were many people as tall or close enough to her height that you could not tell them apart. Finally deciding to take a step towards the edge of the crowd, you began moving but stopped suddenly at the sound of a voice.</p><p>“Are you quite alright?” Turning to the voice on your left, you tried to compose yourself.  You took a small step back, distancing yourself from the man in front of you. Looking at him, you realized he was taller than you. Already feeling slightly off, nerves shot from the anxiety of losing Lady Dimitrescu and the large crowd, you felt worse when you saw his smile. Wide, fake, and sickening.</p><p>You smiled politely, nodding your head. Instead of drifting off back into the crowd like you thought he would, he stepped forward towards you, trying to close the distance. Taking another step back was no use, as you could hear a woman talking loudly behind you. You turned back towards the way you had planned to leave- but stopped. He had grabbed your wrist. </p><p>His hold was unlike Lady Dimitrescu’s. While hers was kind, his was rough and tight, keeping you in place. While her hand was cool, encompassing your wrist  in a welcoming chill, the mans’ was sweaty, unnaturally warm with a heat that made you uncomfortable. You realized that if this man gripped your wrist any tighter, your bones in your wrist would snap as easily as twigs.</p><p>“Will you dance with me, madame?” The tone of his voice, his smile- he wasn’t really asking. He was telling. “I haven’t seen you dance once. I think you’d be a wonderful partner.” How long has this man been watching you? </p><p>“No, thank you.” You smile was strained, fake. Your wrist hurt. You wished that somebody would notice you, notice the man obviously making you uncomfortable. You wish Lady Dimitrescu would come back.</p><p>You gasped as you were yanked forward into him, chests colliding. Your champagne glass was pulled out of your hand and placed on a tray, and suddenly- his hand was in yours. Face squished into his chest, all you could smell was alcohol. His right hand drifted down your waist; but instead of stopping as typical with any dance position, drifted farther down. It didn’t stop. </p><p>You could feel his wide grin as he leant down to whisper into your ear, lips nipping at the shell. “You smell wonderful, love.” You frowned, attempting to wrench yourself free. It proved useless, his strength overpowering you. When you managed to unleash your hand from his, he gripped your wrist again. You felt a pop.</p><p>You stopped struggling; it was not worth any more bones being broken. You pulled back, faking your best smile, hand resting on his shoulder. He grinned, gently pulling you along into a dance. You felt as if you were going to be sick. Everything about this was wrong. His hand kept drifting lower, resting on your lower back and then inching down. When you wiggled, he would squeeze your wrist- and you could feel the bones grinding against each other.</p><p>Suddenly, you saw a hand reach down, grabbing the man by the collar and roughly pulling him away from you. Another hand gently gripped the back of your dress, pulling you back into a soft fabric. Looking up, you could see Lady Dimitrescu.</p><p>Lady Dimitrescu could be mean. You could see the wrath on her face, anger morphing her features. Her smile was still there, but condescending and full of silent, cold anger. When she glanced down at you, soft hat blocking out the light above in the way that appeared to give her a halo above her head, her features softened. Looking you over for injuries, she stopped at your wrist. She could see a bruise already forming, and based on the way your other hand was gently cupping it, your wrist was most likely broken.</p><p>She had seen the way that man had been touching you. It made Lady Dimitrescu angry- angry enough to crush his head in her hand, and take you back to the castle (except that would prove negative- you were both there on political matters after all). Her gaze moved back towards the man struggling in her arms, hands wrapped around her wrist and kicking at her.</p><p>“It would do you well not to touch something that is not yours.” You could hear the anger in her voice. Lady Dimitrescu always had a way of speaking; usually stoic and poised- you had never truly heard her angry like this. You had felt that the anger sometimes directed towards the help of the castle was real; but it was not as real as this anger.</p><p>“Put me down, you bitch!” The man snarled, scratching at her gloved hand and kicking at her chest. He looked embarrassed, the red flush on his face reaching all the way down to his neck. Glancing around, you could see that people were watching- intrigued with the display in front of them. It was silent.</p><p>“Surely.” Lady Dimitrescu lifted him higher, and threw him as far as she could. You could hear him yell as he flew, and heard his groan as he crashed into the floor with a sickening crack. You twistedly hoped that he broke one of his bones as well. There was a collective gasp in the crowd, before the music continued, and the people were conversing again; it was as if nothing had ever happened. </p><p>Lady Dimitrescu grasped your unhurt wrist, gently pulling you towards the opposite edge of the group of people. When you stopped, she grabbed your hurt hand in hers, gently lifting it closer to her as to examine it. As she did, she spoke.</p><p>“Are you alright, darling?” Turning your wrist in a way that particularly hurt, you hissed. Tears came to your eyes, but you pushed them down. There was no need for them now. She stopped quickly, gently lowering your wrist.</p><p>“I’m alright. I think he broke my wrist.” Your voice was quiet, and she could tell you were worse off than she previously thought. She nodded, thinking for a moment. “We don’t have to leave.” You knew she was deciding whether leaving for you was necessary. As she thought, a servant had come up, gently offering you bandages for your wrist. Somebody must have told him too. You smiled politely, and he disappeared into the crowd once again. </p><p>“If you wrap my wrist, we can stay for the meeting afterwards.” She nodded, and gently wrapped your wrist. The meeting - the whole reason you were both here in the first place- was to be held after the party. It wasn’t much longer until the party would be over; But Lady Dimitrescu was not unaware of your humanity. She knew that you were already unsure of yourself. </p><p>“Are you ready?” She smiled kindly, grasping your unhurt wrist. She would stay with you for the rest of the time. After the previous display, she was sure nobody else would touch you. You nodded, and you both drifted back into the crowd. Lady Dimitrescu stayed with you for the rest of the night, redirecting conversations from you, holding your drink for you. You could not be more grateful for her kindness.</p>
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